


February Words #5 - Wear

by StaringAtTheTwinSuns



Series: February Words (2018) [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Body Image, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, POV Leia Organa, Post-Childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 09:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaringAtTheTwinSuns/pseuds/StaringAtTheTwinSuns
Summary: A year and a half after the birth of her son, Leia doesn’t think she’ll ever feel beautiful again. Good thing Luke and Han know she is. Sweet fluff!





	February Words #5 - Wear

**Author's Note:**

> Part 5 of my February fic-a-day challenge! (Part 4 is currently on hold; see my Tumblr for details.) This one’s pure fluff! Body image tag for post-pregnancy body image insecurity, not for eating disorders etc.
> 
> Comments including concrit always welcome!

It’s such a stupid thing to care about.

Leia knows the galaxy is full of all kinds of bodies. And if you asked her, she’d say they were all beautiful. Big or small. Old or young. Human or Wookiee or droid. But a year and a half after the birth of her son, Leia doesn’t think her own body will ever seem beautiful again.

The dress goes on, at least. Of course it goes on; it was custom-made just for this occasion. In the next room, Ben cries “Ooie!”—Chewie—and Leia knows their faithful sitter has arrived.

“Leia?” Luke bursts into their bedroom. “We’re going to be late. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I was… just getting ready.”

So why does she feel like she’s about to cry?

“Here.” Luke lowers his voice. “Let me help you.”

She can do up the hooks by herself—it’s not that tight, but she turns her back to him and nods.

“There. Perfect.” It’s a whisper in her ear, then a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. Goosebumps trace her arms; she closes her eyes.

“Leia? Luke?” Han’s voice, from the doorway. “What’s going on in here? Are you crying?”

“No,” Leia says. But she is.

“What’d you do to her, kid?” Han asks, but his tone is soft, and when he takes her hand, she can sense the two of them, together, behind her.

“No one did anything. It’s just…” She opens her eyes, looks at the mirror. “It’s silly. Just… look at me.” She turns to the side. She’s still too round in all the wrong places. Her hands stray to her stomach, to her rear.

“You look beautiful,” Luke argues.

Han just says, “C’mere.”

She turns away from the mirror. Her makeup is starting to run. And her heart starts to twist at the sound of Ben in the other room, as if a few extra pounds were somehow not a fair trade for all of the joy he had brought them.

Han looks at Luke, then back at Leia. “Battle scars.”

“Battle scars?” Leia raises her eyebrows at Luke, who just shrugs.

“You don’t cover this up.” Han touches her shoulder, lets his fingers trace the edges of the scar she’d earned on Endor.

“That’s different,” she says. But she knows what he’s saying. And she guesses it makes a kind of sense.

“It isn’t.” Luke shakes his head. “Battle scars. Both earned… for our happiness. And they make you even more beautiful to me.”

“To us.” Han elbows him. And Luke starts laughing.

And before she knows it, Leia’s laughing too.

“Battle scars. Fine. Okay.” She still doesn’t love what she sees in the mirror. But she knows she ought to wear her scars with pride.


End file.
